Chapter 2: The Cat Life (2025)

Yeah, you heard me right. Five. Hundred. Years.

Tokyo in 2025 is nothing like the sleepy village of Masagojima. It is loud, it is chaotic, it smells like exhaust fumes and fried chicken, and the lights never, ever turn off. It is a concrete jungle that breathes electricity.

I love it.

Currently, I am sitting on a very comfortable, slightly scratched beige sofa in the Hoshi household. Well, "sitting" is a strong word for what I am doing. I am actually curled up in a tight, furry ball, purring like a diesel engine because Naomi-our human-is scratching that absolutely perfect spot right behind my left ear.

"Oh, Snowy, you are so soft today", Naomi coos. She is eighteen years old, with kind brown eyes and a messy bun that defies gravity. She smells like vanilla shampoo and pencil shavings. "Are you a good girl? Yes, you are".

I let out a little mrrp sound. It is involuntary. Being a cat has its perks, and getting free massages from a human who adores you is definitely at the top of the list.

Across the room, chaos is unfolding.

Yoshi-currently a sleek black cat with terrifying green eyes and an attitude problem-is chasing a laser pointer dot that Naomi’s dad, Hajime, is wiggling across the floor. Yoshi knows it is just a light. He knows Hajime is holding the little metal device. We have had this conversation a thousand times. But his predator instincts are stupidly strong. The red dot moves, and Yoshi’s brain shuts off.

He pounces, misses the dot by an inch, and slides across the polished hardwood floor, crashing headfirst into the TV stand.

Thump.

"Be careful, Blackie!" Hajime laughs, wincing slightly at the impact.

They gave us pet names because, obviously, they don't know we are ancient supernatural beings tasked with protecting the balance of the world. To them, we are just stray cats they adopted over the years. Yoshi is 'Blackie', which he hates with a burning passion. Inoe is 'Mimi'. Kenuji is 'Grey'. Muji is 'Tiger'. And I am 'Snowy'.

It is not very creative, right? But Hajime is a factory worker, not a poet.

The TV is on in the background, playing the evening news. A news anchor with too much hair gel is smiling a bit too brightly.

"...crime statistics continue to baffle experts. Violent crime in the Kanto region has dropped by another 15% this month. Police are attributing it to better community policing, but rumors of the 'Shadow Guardians' persist online..."

Kenuji, in his grey cat form, is perched on the top shelf of the bookshelf. He twitches his tail as he watches the news, his yellow eyes narrowed. I can feel his thoughts projecting into my head, clear as a bell.

‘Shadow Guardians? They make us sound like a boy band. Or a rejected sentai team.’

‘Better than The Furry Avengers,’ Yoshi thinks back, shaking his head to clear the dizziness from hitting the TV stand. He glares at the red dot, which is now resting innocently on the rug.

‘Focus, you idiots,’ Inoe’s voice slides into our minds like cool water. She is a calico, looking elegant on the windowsill, watching the street outside. ‘Hajime and Naomi are leaving soon. Hajime has that late shift at the plastics factory, and Naomi is meeting her study group at the library.’

Muji is under the coffee table, sharpening his claws on the underside of the rug. Scritch-scratch-scritch.

‘Finally. I am starving. Not for this dry kibble crap. I want real food. I want meat. I want something that doesn't taste like cardboard and vitamins.’

"Alright, Naomi, let's go", Hajime stands up, groaning slightly as his knees pop. He grabs his keys from the bowl. "Don't forget to lock up. The news says crime is down, but we don't take chances".

"I know, Dad. I'm coming". Naomi leans down and kisses my forehead. "Bye, Snowy! Be good!"

She scratches Muji’s chin-he tolerates it, barely, his tail thumping the floor-and heads out.

The door clicks shut. Then the deadbolt turns. Clack.

We wait.

One minute. The sound of their footsteps fades down the driveway.

Two minutes. The car engine starts and pulls away.

"Okay, coast is clear", Yoshi announces telepathically.

The air in the living room shimmers. It is like static electricity building up before a storm. We all focus, pulling at that energy deep inside our cores, the gift from the Cat Goddess five hundred years ago.

Poof.

Five clouds of smoke explode in the living room, smelling faintly of ozone and old incense.

When the smoke clears, we aren't cats anymore.

Yoshi stretches his arms over his head, his back cracking loudly like a whip. He is wearing his favorite black leather jacket and ripped jeans, looking like a bad-boy yakuza extra from a low-budget movie. He has a goatee that he thinks makes him look mature.

"Man, my spine was killing me", Yoshi groans, rubbing his neck. "Why does Hajime have to play with the laser for twenty minutes straight? My neck isn't designed for that kind of whiplash".

"Because you act like an idiot and chase it", Kenuji says, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looks sharp in a crisp white button-down shirt and slacks. He looks like a young professor or a very serious accountant. "If you just ignored it, he would stop. You are reinforcing the behavior".

"I cannot ignore it! It moves!" Yoshi defends himself, flopping onto the beige sofa-the human way this time, boots and all. "It defies me! It mocks me!"

Inoe shakes out her long, multi-colored hair. It is a stunning mix of black, orange, and white streaks that cost a fortune to maintain (or would, if she didn't just magic it that way). She smooths down her pleated skirt.

"Is there any pudding left in the fridge?" Inoe asks, walking toward the kitchen. "I swear, if Muji ate my custard pudding again, I am going to mind-control him into walking into a wall. Repeatedly".

Muji is already rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, tossing boxes of tea and crackers aside. He is shirtless, because he hates clothes, revealing the old scars on his back from a fight with a demon in the 1800s. He has messy orange hair and the build of a kickboxer.

"I didn't eat your pudding", Muji calls out, his voice muffled by a bag of chips. "But I am about to eat this instant ramen raw if someone doesn't stop me. I need calories".

I spin around in my cute white dress, enjoying the feeling of having thumbs again. I pick up a cushion and hug it. "We have work to do tonight, guys! The negative energy is getting low, but Kenuji said he sensed something weird near the old shopping district".

Kenuji nods, walking to the window and peering out at the darkening street. His expression is serious. "Yeah. It is faint, but it feels sticky. Like a slime mold spirit. It is probably feeding on the stress of the exam students. There is a cram school near there".

Yoshi grins, cracking his knuckles. The air around him gets colder, a side effect of his geomancy power leaking out. "Excellent. I need to punch something. The laser pointer made me angry".

"Please don't punch the students", I remind him gently. "We are supposed to protect them".

"No promises", Yoshi says, standing up. "If they are annoying, I might just flick them. A little bit".

"We need a plan", Kenuji says, turning back to us. "Muji, stop eating the raw noodles. It is gross".

Muji crunches loudly on a block of dried ramen. "It is crunchy. I like crunchy".

"The plan is simple", Inoe says, coming back from the kitchen with a cup of pudding (she found it hidden behind the lettuce). "We go to the shopping district. We find the spirit. Yoshi traps it. Muji beats it up. Haruka purifies it. I make sure nobody notices. Kenuji supervises and complains. Same as always".

"I do not complain", Kenuji says, affronted. "I provide tactical analysis".

"Same thing", Yoshi laughs.

We gather our things. Yoshi grabs his combat boots. Inoe checks her makeup in the hallway mirror. Muji finally puts on a t-shirt, though he rips the sleeves off first.

We slip out the back door, locking it behind us with a simple telekinetic twist from Kenuji.

Outside, the Tokyo night is waiting for us. The streetlights buzz overhead. The city hums with life.

For most people, Tokyo is a place of work, shopping, and crowded trains. For us, it is a hunting ground.

We walk down the street, five teenagers who look like they are heading to a karaoke bar. But our shadows stretch long and sharp under the lights. If you look closely, really closely, you might see that our shadows have tails.

"Hey", Muji says, looking up at the moon. "Do you think Hajime left any leftovers from dinner?"

"He made curry", I say. "There is plenty left in the pot".

"Yes!" Muji pumps his fist. "Victory curry!"

"Let's earn it first", Yoshi says, his eyes flashing green in the darkness. "Let's go clean up this town".

We break into a run, moving faster than any human athlete, disappearing into the neon maze of the city.